Sporadic Insanity
by WritingUtensil
Summary: Kagura knows the dangers of staying in one place for too long, but what happens when it takes its toll on her?
1. Corruption

Disclaimer: I don't own Gintama, of course! If I did, I'd be out there trying to make GinxKagu happen! :) This was inspired by the fact what Umibozu said in episode 40- that staying in one place too long will only cause harm to the people around them, and maybe taller- than-I-expected Kamui going crazy in the manga and anime (soon) ... I don't know.

This story may not be for everyone, so please read (if you decide to) with an open mind.

Warnings: Randomness (I don't know if this makes sense), Violence (remember when I said I couldn't write fight scenes that well? - so I guess it's not that violent after all...), Language (Maybe)

This first part might be a bit short, so please just bear with me. :) Thanks. As always, comments, constructive criticism are appreciated (Everything except flames) Thx to Blitzphyd for the corrections!

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**Sporadic Insanity**

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Kagura blamed her predicament on a brief lapse of irrationality and helplessly watched as the man encroached on her private bubble. Why wasn't she searching for an escape? The brim of his hat covered his face, and the smoke emitting from the pipe provided a putrid fragrance, one that lingered faintly in the atmosphere. The Kihetai leader leaned close to her.

"Do you want to become stronger?"

His soft voice belied the cruel and vicious nature he harboured, the Yato girl reminded herself. This man must have repressed his murderous intent displayed during battles, since shivers hadn't yet crawled along her spine. In a shopping district though, she figured he wouldn't do anything to draw attention to himself, and the sukonbu laid out by the window pane was inducing all sorts of fantasies about delicious dishes that she could make with it. Perhaps he would leave if the red-haired girl entered the convenience store.

"Go away." Although she normally responded to hazardous circumstances with fists, fighting an influential psycho was imprudent.

"Your Yato side is desperate for violence, isn't it? Wouldn't you like to find out how to control it?" Her eyes widened at him incredulously. The knowledge of losing restraint in Yoshiwara, as far as the teenager knew, was limited to Shinpachi and herself. They had kept it a secret even from Gintoki, and discovering that Takasugi Shinsuke received the information was enough to dispel her daydreams. The ex-Joi soldier, having captured her attention, whispered a few words as he passed her and continued on his way down the street.

"I'll be waiting by the pier…"

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Upon returning to the Yorozuya with her rations and Gintoki's strawberry milk, she turned on the TV. The sound of the appliance blared throughout the room as she tried to unsuccessfully eradicate the part of her brain analyzing the madman's words. Her silver-haired employer was probably dozing off on his futon, thereby cancelling their work for today. Their funds were running low, but they'd make it work. The glasses otaku was watching a televised concert, pumping his fists up and down as the audience cheered on Otsu.

Kagura realized that confronting the otaku for some advice would be a plausible action. "Shinpachi, what if someone else knew about….Yoshiwara?" She emphasized the last word, and gave the human adolescent a look that sobered him up.

The boy turned around swiftly, his arm sinking to his side. "Who else witnessed it, Kagura?!" He raced to her and grabbed her shoulders.

"I don't know. I couldn't see his face very clearly." Side-stepping the inquiry was the safest course of action. Confessing to an encounter with Edo's extremist, however accidental, would result in a grilling that the Yorozuya female wanted to avoid at all costs.

Shinpachi weighed the situation. "A man, huh?" The Yato adolescent blanched at giving away this detail and chided herself for being careless.

"Is he planning to use it for blackmail against us?" Good old logic; already the cautious member of their trio was suspecting foul intentions. She hoped that the light would stop reflecting off of his lenses for these dramatic moments; it was annoying, like everything else lately.

"I don't think so." The conversation was growing tedious, and the persuasive purple-robed man's offer was sparking up optimism. She would never again submit to her Yato blood, never injure Gin-chan or Shinpachi. The criminal's invitation that she had mentally crumpled up and tossed into a wastebasket was beginning to entice her.

"Actually, he said he was going to teach me to control it. I'm supposed to meet him at the pier." Curiosity and apprehension raged inside of the adolescent.

The more responsible member was astonished at the news. "He's a Yato clansman?"

"No, definitely not. He wasn't carrying an umbrella."

"I guess you could go once." The otaku hesitated, and then brightened. "If he tries anything, you can just beat him up!"

Attempting to defeat a convict with the support of the Harusame, which Kamui had joined, was inconceivable; she forced a chuckle and gripped her umbrella forcefully. Defying her Yato heritage was growing more of a burden since taking out her inherent frustration against inanimate objects wasn't adequate anymore. She had to figure out a way to release the bloodlust safely.

Her father decimated malevolent aliens, and her brother, Harusame's enemies to stave off the insanity that would consume mature Yato clansmen if they repressed the killing urge. Being the offspring of Umibozu ensured that the Yato lust heightened years before adulthood. Who could Kagura aim her anger towards?

The Yorozuya girl had nearly snapped the last time she fought with the sadist and he had retreated afterwards to the Shinsengumi headquarters, his underlying trust in her discipline severed.

That was the day the redhead acknowledged the overwhelming obligation to her nature and humiliation burned throughout her entire being. She didn't want Gintoki to discern her transformation, so she had been leaving the Yorozuya early when there were no job offers and returning home late.

Shinpachi's sister was no help either. Sometimes Kagura thought that Otae was purposely edging her on by going on a rampage, whether it was panty thieves or stalkers. The temptation to succumb would crash against her defenses.

Cracks on her supposed iron will were forming, and the Yato female spent nights wondering if the next day, she would awake to the stench of her employer's blood dripping off of her umbrella. Sleeping soundly was problematical when nightmares assaulted her subconscious.

The vibrancy her character was defined by was extinguishing. Her immediate friends hadn't picked up any dramatic change yet, but how long could she preserve herself?

Kagura had the absurd hope that Takasugi Shinsuke's maniacal methods would resurrect her, or at least subdue the hunger for bloodshed. Retracting her decision to distance herself from the terrorist, she slid the door open. The adolescent observed the pedestrians beneath her, how they appeared to be so carefree and energetic; envy rose like bile in her throat.

None of them had to cling to sanity through savagery.

She wished hurting Gin-chan and Shinpachi wasn't a possibility, wished she didn't require the assistance of a maniac, wished fervently to reclaim the innocence of her younger years, but apparently reality had other plans.

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Dirt and gravel crackled as her boots tread on the path leading to the pier. The sea was calm, sparkling sunlight reflected off the waves, and a large ship was docked over by the warehouses. Umibozu's daughter was instantly wary and readied her weapon. Keeping her presence covert was her goal, and she needed to silence anyone who was noncompliant. She crept tentatively through the entrance and into a corridor, eyes and ears searching for the slightest indication that someone else was present.

The sound of footsteps emerged from the east end, and she whirled around to see a man accompanied by an Amanto. He was adorned in sunglasses and a trench coat, and didn't seem the least bit ruffled by her unannounced appearance. The stranger paused in front of her, Otsu's odd profanities blaring from his headphones.

"Shinsuke-sama is expecting you." Though his speech was respectful, the man's superior tone ticked her off, and she whipped her umbrella at him.

He was unmoved by the display. "I received orders to escort you to him." Without waiting for her approval, the messenger set off, forcing Kagura to hurry after him. When she caught up with the Otsu fan, she stifled her indignation and desire to attack the man for his audacity. Decapitating the Devil's subordinate wouldn't leave a positive first impression. She was also perturbed that the notion had instantly jumped into her mind.

The man halted by giant wooden doors, and a silken voice from the room beckoned them to enter. The interior was more spacious than Otae's dojo, daylight filtering through the windows. A figure slumped near the closest opening. Slender fingers balanced the pipe as dark eyes regarded her; Kagura's heartbeat reverberated in her ears. No vocal exchange was involved, no victorious speech made, yet she recognized the ex-Joi's grotesque satisfaction.

How low she had tumbled, to rely on the aid of her enemies.

Takasugi's clothes rustled while he propped his body alongside the wall, and in a single movement, the mood shifted and the tension intensified.

"Bansai."

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End of Part I

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	2. Interruption

Disclaimer: I do not own Gintama in any shape or form. Should I post the disclaimer up every chapter?

Warnings: Violence. Viewer Discretion is advised. I do not know how to write fight scenes, so I'm trying one out. Cheers.

Author's notes: I'm spacing everything out so it's easier for me to read.

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Sporadic Insanity: Chapter 2

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The susurration of a sword being unsheathed disturbed the myriad of confusion monopolizing her conscious. The teenager leapt back to narrowly evade the first strike, and defended the second with her umbrella; however, a roundhouse kick to her torso left the pale girl winded and sent her sprawling. The inner Yato was desperate to retaliate, to dismember. She aimed her weapon at the man, preferring to unleash a barrage of shells than to surrender to the primal creature within.

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A blaze of killing intent interrupted her concentration, and Kagura whirled around to the Kihetai leader, suspicion evident on her face. Bansai took advantage of the distraction to slice her with his sword. Blood spurted out from her shoulder, and Kagura ferociously swung her umbrella at him. He flew into the far wall, and the scent of his blood as well as hers stirred her hunger. The red droplets dripping down his face enticed her. The girl advanced cautiously on him, pondering what it would feel like to really unchain the frenzied monster diminishing her; she bit down harshly on her lip to cease the morbid contemplation. Fringes of self-discipline were floating away like the tobacco smoke from the pipe.

The Devil seemed to have noticed her hesitation. "The only way to control the beast is to satisfy it. Give it destruction."

His pupils dilated as a merciless sneer crossed his face; Bansai swung his sword at her in a horizontal arc. She sank to the floor to evade the blade, lashed out to smash her foot against his shin, and heard the agreeable crunch of broken bone. Kagura could perceive the sound of his thumping heart at the close proximity, and her fingers itched to cradle the pulsing object - to crush it. A fleeting emotion of guilt brushed by, but it disappeared when a cut opened on the centre of her Chinese-style dress. The musician's sword arm was extended, his katana smattered with crimson. As her hackles rose and the Yato teenager impulsively launched herself at him, the shamisen player whipped the strings of his garrotte-like instrument around her body to cease her movements.

The doors flung open. Harusame invaded the area and surrounded the girl, leering at what appeared to be weak prey and brandishing their weapons. Bansai loosened the bind, allowing Kagura to escape- and drive an impenitent elbow into his stomach that caused the shamisen player to spit out a mouthful of blood. The teenage alien fluidly dodged the untrained assaults of Amanto rushing toward her, pumping rounds into some and breaking the necks of others. Her body felt euphoric as blood splattered her clothes and stained her hair. The inebriated girl had no qualms about killing anyone who dared to fight her, tearing the last few to shreds to sedate her suppressed desire. Bansai reached his superior and rested near him, his breath coming out in short bursts, as if he had run a marathon. All the while, his eyes trained on the raging girl's erratic frame.

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Kagura's rage was now vanishing, the humiliation of failing to abstain from murdering burning her skin, a deadly wraith sinking into the recesses of her heart. She looked at the corpses scattered about on the floor, the stains on her dress, and sank to her knees.

Takasugi's merciless chuckle echoed through her. "Get up." The Yato girl's eyes observed the man who was amused in the wake of the calamity.

Kagura loathed that it seemed like she was obeying him when she got to her feet. "You said you'd teach me how to control it."

"You needed something to take out your anger on, and I simply provided the outlet. I offered you power, and you took it."

Her honed instincts detected a fluctuation in the air and she mechanically raised the umbrella to block Takasugi's sword. She aimed a kick at him, hoping it would connect. To her dismay, the attack was futile; the man's rage seemed to spike at the affront and the next instant, his blade pressed at her back. Vivid blue eyes widened in shock.

"We're finished, Bansai. Get rid of her."

He bent forwards to murmur a final threat in her ear.

"If you tell Gintoki, _anyone_, of today, I'll personally make sure this sword goes through your heart." Retracting the blade, he exited the room, the malevolent smirk on his visage growing wider with each step.

Kagura slid to the ground facedown, suddenly tired of the oppressive atmosphere. Her attention languidly moved to the corpses around her. Just knowing that she had murdered them and her ideals made earlier pleasure fade into hollowness. The musician walked to her, and nudged her with his broken foot.

"I have to clean you up. You're drowning in your own blood." Then she noticed the wound on her stomach was still bleeding.

"Urusai aru. I don't care." He yanked her arm. The girl rose gradually, seized her umbrella, and attempted to wrench free of his grasp and possibly break his arm. Though in most circumstances he would have killed the offender, he was handicapped and this girl, along with her resilient nature, had piqued his interest. He snatched her free hand and limped to the bow, leaving a crimson trail. After placing a roll of bandages in her palm, Otsuu's songwriter shoved her off the boat.

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She plummeted into the water. The Yato female resurfaced and worked diligently to stay adrift when she breached the surface. "Bastard! What the hell doing you think you're doing?"

"Your clothes are clean." Ignoring her protests and curses, the man wearing sunglasses swivelled around and re-entered the ship. Kagura paddled to the side and climbed back onto damp concrete, pondering on what had just happened. True, her Yato side was temporarily assuaged. Nevertheless, the shame of consorting with the Devil and the massacre of Harusame pirates was etched into her mind.

She stumbled back to town, and went into an alleyway to hastily bandage up the cut, fingers fumbling and lungs breathless from the confrontation. The girl nearly dropped the bandages twice. Climbing the stairs was a mild burden. When the teenager opened the door, the smell of their dinner greeted her, the gentle waft settling around her like a lukewarm blanket.

Shinpachi's energetic voice greeted her from the interior. "Ah, Kagura-chan, you've returned just in time!" She stuck the umbrella in a corner near the entrance, careful to stash it where the damp weapon couldn't be seen. Stepping gingerly into the living room, the girl grinned at the occupants. Gintoki was already snatching up the best food while she hurried to sit beside the otaku.

"Eh? Why are you wet, Kagura-chan?" She tensed slightly and continued to take from the plates. Pretending to be oblivious wouldn't work.

She recalled what most teenagers did during the summer and made up a believable excuse. "Oh, that? I decided to go to the sea for a swim." The girl forced a casual tone, attempting to disguise her uneasiness.

"With your _normal_ clothes?" The girl froze. "You really will catch a cold, Kagura-chan. Learn to prepare your swimsuit next time." Shinpachi paused for moment and shrugged. "Maybe we can go together sometime." Kagura glanced down self-consciously and prayed that blood hadn't soaked through. She sighed in relief at the fact that no indication of a wound appeared while stuffing more rice in her mouth, chopsticks clattering distractedly to fill the silence. The adolescent boy seemed to have forgotten about their earlier conversation.

"You look a lot better than you've been the past few weeks. So, how'd it go…well?" Shinpachi hadn't erased the memory after all. She inwardly cursed his responsible personality and chose to reply with a vague phrase.

"It was helpful." Her eyes flittered to Gintoki, hoping that the unnervingly observant part of him hadn't picked up on anything, especially the wide slice on her skirt that she had attempted to cover discreetly with her arm. Her employer was involved in the dishes and gave no indication that he had perceived the defacement of her dress.

"Otsu-chan's concert was the best…" Eyes sparkling with an unearthly sheen, the cheering captain went off on a tangent, Kagura flinching at the first word. Otsu. Bansai. Takasugi.

After dinner, Kagura petted Sadaharu and poured the kibble into his bowl. The canine dipped his head and dutifully began to eat, but eyed on her warily, as if accusing her of betraying the Yorozuya. She crept into bed, a little perturbed. Why did Bansai listen to Otsuu? He didn't seem like the stereotypical otaku. Why did Takasugi invite her to the ship? The questions resounded in her head, and mortification rushed back full force as she blamed the Kihetai for her decadence. She didn't want to disappoint Gintoki and Shinpachi. A searing pain from her stomach interrupted her thinking processes, and there it stayed until fatigue affected her. Curled up into a ball, the Yato girl fell into an unsteady slumber, but even then the rest was more than she'd accumulated all week.

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The Kihetai leader's quarters were lit up by a dim lantern atop of a small table, the shadows swirling on the walls. "Shinsuke, are you expecting the girl to return?" Bansai was sitting on one side of the furniture, and Takasugi leaning against the window, eyes closed in an impression of gentle lethargy. The cool air that filtered in increased the chilling aura permeating the chamber, an already fearful sensation permeating from the ex-Joi warrior.

"Tell me, Bansai, what did you think of her fury?" The apathetic gaze sliding towards the musician playing his shamisen was mercury fluid - absurdly insidious and deceptively angelic.

His right-hand man reflected on her fighting amongst a mob of the Harusame, and concluded that the carnage she had created was…inspiring. It even made the effortlessly managed bloodlust surface briefly in his mind. She had the capability to equal his strength, and possibly surpass it. However, Kagura was clearly not under Takasugi's influence; if she had been, the challenge to his superior wouldn't have occurred. If his irritated air was any implication, the ex-Joi soldier was aware of that too..

"Her sound is distorted beyond comprehension… but she was useful those Harusame traitors."

Takasugi had an eerie smile on his face again, a smirk that was only hinted at the evils he was capable of. "We need someone to replace Nizo. Who could be better than Gintoki's _ally_?" _And she doesn't even need a parasitic sword_, Bansai mused.

Through her outrage at being deceived and exploited was extremely trying, she resembled an abandoned child at times- vulnerable and impressionable. If the girl converted to their side, then she would make a very promising addition.

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A week passed by with no significant uprising in her Yato blood, and Kagura relished the change. Whenever she had the chance to sleep, she took it. Otae and Otose praised the fact that the red-haired girl looked healthier, and the energetic glow in her eyes had returned. However, guilt resided like a perfidious shadow in her mind.

The girl propped her head in her hands, recalling Takasugi's ominous words as well as the sea of crimson carnage she had left on the boat. Kagura had vowed to suppress the urge, until she was in danger of harming the others. Regret at how swiftly she had yielded welled up, and her fingernails subconsciously dug into her palms. She wanted,_ needed_, to defy the Yato reputation. Her hand drifted to the light scar on her stomach and the red shirt. The sound of Shinpachi entering interrupted her, his footsteps creating a reassuring rhythm- the one constant factor in the fast-paced melody of her life.

"Gin-san's not here?" He shuffled to the freelancer's bedroom to check and then planted himself next to her.

She shrugged indifferently, picking absently at her nose. "He probably just got drunk with Madao or met some weird people again. More importantly, are you going to take Sadaharu out on a walk?"

"You don't really have a good image of Gin-san's hobbies, do you?" The otaku chuckled nervously, and repositioned his glasses. "Isn't it your job to take out Sadaharu? You know he attacks virtually everyone, and you're usually the sole person he obeys."

"I don't really care, you know, but I just wanted to offer you the privilege, no, the _honour_ of accompanying such a wonderful dog." The girl turned her head up arrogantly. "You should be proud."

Getting to his feet speedily, the boy who hated being attacked by alien canines rejected her proposal, and departed the freelancer's place after a few words. "It's _your_ responsibility. I have to help Ane-ue with something. I just wanted to know if there were any job offers today, but I guess with Gin-san gone, the shop is closed up. Maybe tomorrow." The rumble of a door sliding shut was heard.

The minutes slithered by, and Kagura tried to take an afternoon nap, but she had already been energized by her previous slumber. Latching a leash onto her dog, she walked out the door and hastily descended the staircase.

"I just have to pray not to see that bazooka-loving bastard again." She murmured while strolling along the dirt-trodden roads. "I don't need another 'session' with Otsu fan number two." Unless a fight with the Shinsengumi captain actually sufficed, being half-sated would be a rather uncomfortable sensation, capable of directing her back to the extremist ship. The girl hoped that the sadist would continue to avoid her as he had done in the past few weeks.

No such luck.

His visage appeared in the stream of people passing by, brown eyes narrowed at her. The captain of the 1st Shinsengumi squadron approached her. "Harassing the pedestrians, china? I'll have to bring you in if you insist on disturbing the peace." Kagura tried to force a smile, but her irritation was palpable from her clenched jaw.

"Go away and I won't hurt you. I already declined your pathetic attempts to seduce me. Why've you stopped avoiding me after our last fight? It's the only thing you've ever done that I've tolerated."

"Avoiding? I've been busy with a real job, unlike you. And contrary to popular belief, I'm not interested in mountain gorillas. If anyone should have a complaint, it's me. You've been stalking me since day one." The sadist was well-known for his decorum, or lack thereof, and the citizens were already hurrying away.

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The Shinsengumi member drew his sword, and launched himself at her. She wondered why his strokes seemed to be wavering as the minutes ticked by. The fact that she was merely dodging, and not directly confronting him as usual probably unnerved the swordsman. She wanted to retaliate, but couldn't. The slightest assault might sever her grip on the Yato beast, and the memory of the maimed Harusame helped deter her from flinging a fist at Okita. Sadaharu departed with a small whine, sensing the futility of trying to hinder the two from fighting.

The ecru-haired boy smirked, yet his eyes didn't reflect delight. "Oi, why aren't you fighting back? Are you chicken?"

Her eyes narrowed in hostility, a warning meant to dissuade the boy from provoking her further. "Shut up." Okita merely smiled and readied his sword.

The Yato clansman misjudged an attack, and blood appeared on her forearm, dripping down the curve of her fingers. The teenage female formed a fist, digging fingernails into her palm. Her instinctive brutality was still reasonably restricted, and if the human male in front of her stopped right now, she'd be within the safe zone.

"I get it; you don't like swords, right? Then maybe this will work." The Prince of Sadists' index finger was hovering near a trigger. The bazooka aimed at her appeared to be relatively new; perhaps he'd been honest about that job after all.

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Click.

Kagura collapsed onto the ground to evade the rocket. The projectile flew into the shop behind her, and its unfortunate patrons screamed at the burnt debris, The approaching footsteps grinding on the dry gravel irritated her ears. Okita's form hovered over her, a triumphant smirk plastered on his visage and weapon hefted on his shoulder.

"You bastard, do you even know what you've done?" Kagura spat out the tangy, metallic taste of blood in her mouth as she rose, a strange yet potent mix of fear and fury coursing through her veins. The red-haired teen widened her eyes when she realized that she was staring at the mouth of the portable cannon.

She sneered at his outright threat, yet cautiously leapt away from the sadist. "You've got some guts, sicko, pointing a toy at me." Blunt pain from the injury in Okita's leg was spreading again. He hadn't rested it enough since their previous encounter. The last time they had battled was still fresh in the young man's mind, the absence of her rationality invoking something he had not felt for quite a while, something burrowing itself into the complex breadth of his consciousness, something he would never admit to: the faint stirring of raw apprehension.

His cautious side had naturally developed defences since that day. The pounding in her blood was starting to crescendo into a primitive rhythm, and the captain responded mechanically and instantly to the tension permeating from her. The second shot was so accurate that he thought it would have gone directly through her, _if_ she had been a powerless and weaponless human.

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He wondered momentarily if he should have brought the rifle that day, since he rarely had any opportunities to employ it.

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Through the dissipating haze, a faint silhouette was visible, an umbrella shielding the figure from the sunlight. Scratches and cuts marred her pale skin as she tread amidst the crumbling rubble. The glint of anger in her darkened eyes was incredibly easy to read, and but an emotion foreign to the swordsman appeared to flicker across her face.

She glowered. "I hate people who need a reminder to stay away." The umbrella that was now lowered to his eye level dropped down to her waist. "Since you want me to fight back, I guess I shouldn't, but…" She bounded towards him. The tip of her weapon smashed into the ground; Kagura balanced herself on the handle, spun around and whipped her legs at the teen.

He plummeted head-first into the pile of burnt wood. The eyes glaring at him appeared slightly unfocused, as if the girl was lightheaded. He could recognize that unstable swagger of hers from their previous fight and the steady hammering in his chest responding to the intense, raw fury aimed at him. The clunk of weaponry being lifted diverted his attention. "It's time you learned to stay the hell away from me!"

The hit landed a few paces away from him, not enough to injure the resilient male. Dense smoke blinded his vision. When it cleared, the red-headed teen and her umbrella were nowhere to be seen, and only a dent in the ground and the bazooka remained.

"Aa… she ran away again." The adolescent lifted a distracted hand to the bleeding scratch on his forehead and averted his eyes from the trembling fingers.

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End of Sporadic Insanity: Chapter Two


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